Tingles
by misowned
Summary: Chapter 5 up! Spuffy, begins during Dead Things, 6x13. Please R&R, gives me inspiration 3
1. Chapter 1

1

**We're in his crypt. **It's after, and he's managed to make me forget again and made me remember the reason I keep coming back. So I feel free. So that the only feel of him is relevant.

Now I am angry at myself for needing him. I make excuses after I realise I'm talking to him. And I freak out as I soak again when he carresses my arm, my shoulder, my back, and tells me I'm amazing. I'm the one for him.

I can't say it. I lie quietly through my teeth, tell him I only like him "sometimes". I feel so guilty about that lie, I hardly look at him when he says he knows I like what he does to me. I do. The pain is almost welcome, the lust is double and love is always there.

When he looks at me...

His eyes are perfect. They're blue and penetrating, like he can see straight through every protest I make. Maybe he just doesn't want to listen because he wants me so much. He needs me. I'm sure he wants me more than I want him, which means so much more than I can even think.

It hurts.

It's an ache inside.

Spike.

I can tell it's not just sex. I could be with any guy. I'm not unnatractive. But the feeling that this guy loves me, the feeling that he's doing these twisted, disgusting, sexy things to me because he loves me no matter what... It heals me.

When I'm with him, time means nothing. My late night breaks at the Doublemeat are getting longer. He's rented a room at the hotel across the street and stays there sometimes during my day shifts. It's perfect. Just like him. Perfect as the bulge of his muscles as he grabs me from the doorway and pushes me backward onto a bed in a seedy hotel room.

He can tell I'm lost in memories now, and gets my attention by reaching behind himself and pulling out a pair of cuffs. We've never done that before. Maybe he thinks this time wasn't kinky enough for me. Maybe he thinks I'm not satisfied. But I liked it. I liked the feel of his hand gripping my wrist against the rough carpet, his forehead pressing against mine as he whispered my name again and again and blew it against my lips.

I **was** satisfied, but now I want him. The black scrap of lace I slipped on moments age seems useless as he folds the heavy, patterned rug off me and presses his body against mine, bushes his lips softly against mine and stands so I have to also, to find his lips again with mine.

My fingers are intertwined in the soft, short hair at the back of his head as he responds slowly to my attempt at a fierce kiss. One of his calloused hands runs up my bare back, down my arm to my wrist again. My hair raises, I love the twinge my slayer-senses make everytime he touches me, the feeling that I should be afraid gives me erotic low-down tingles. My eyes ease open and he's looking deep into them. He pulls his searching tongue away from mine and breaks the kiss. I feel him slip the cool silver metal around my wrists and clicks them into place.

I'm shivering in anticipation as he picks me up. The chain of the cuffs keeps my hands around his neck as I trace his jawline and cheekbones with my fingers. He lays me gently on top of his golden sheets and straddles me, ducking out from under my hands and cuffs and placing them above my head on the pillow.

How can this time seem more soft and subtle than any other? I'm tied, for God's sake. Maybe it's because he's trying to take care of me. He wants my trust, I can tell, that's why he's doing this.

I just want him.

He's dragging his searching lips down my neck, sucking on my pulse lightly and then licking his tongue over my breasts, pulling one soft nub into his mouth while sliding his hands down to the black lace.

The sensation of his hands slipping away my ast barrier, leaving my completely vulnerable and at his mercy; it all makes me shiver again, wanting, needing him to make me come over and over and over again with him inside me. I manage to stop myself from shreaking out his name as his lips are suddenly fastened over my clit. I can't help it - _oh, wow, amazing tongue work, oh my god, oh my GOD _- my internal monologue becomes verbal and my hands clench painfully. Slayer-strength isn't the best when you're tied. I know I'm going to have red wrists when I pull myself away from his bed, But wait.

Why should I?


	2. Chapter 2

2

**Through the whispers **and moans streaming from Buffy's mouth, there was a sudden word, quiet, but certain. "Uhhnn, wait."

Surprising.

I try not to look too stunned as her pelvis stops moving against me. I pull away from her sweet wet curls and slide off of her, I'm not sure what she wants. Once we start, she hardly ever stops til she's climaxed.

I edge up the bed til I'm just below eye-level with her. Her face is a book. I know she would never be this vulnerable with anyone. Accept Willow, but that was before. I don't think she'd ever want me to see her like this. She's scared of herself, I can tell, but why?

I search her eyes.

These looks she's just given me are not why I love her. Pain, fear, lust, need, all of these have been here the past months. No happy Buffy. Now laughing, beautiful girl, filled with life, out of reach in the sun where I would never have her. Now she's in the dark. I can't stand it.

She wants me for reasons I cannot explain. I want her to tell me her reasons, though I know some of them, but I'm too scared to ask about the others. I might lose everything if I do.

Hey, I am a vampire, so her violence isn't exactly painful in the physical sense - to tell the truth, I love it - but even my evilness doesn't like being used, fucked, lead on, beaten up and discarded.

It hasn't been like that so much lately. Working at the Doublemeat seems to make her completely hopeless. She's coming to me more and falling apart around me. She just does enough to turn me on, then lets me fuck her into oblivion, her pained eyes trained on mine, mouth closed and grim. I can't resist her, even like this. If I try hard enough I can remember that girl from before, fighting for her sister, hard and dangerous, Slayer, muscles trangling my cock, so hot and tight. Buffy.

She may as well be tied, always acting like my doll. I didn't want it to be like that anymore, maybe I should've just cuffed myself.

I'm a fucking idiot. Imbecile. Now I'm getting fucking British like Watcher-boy, maybe that would help her, a father back to protect her. Why did I do that? I need to let her make the decision, be in control of at least one thing in her life. She can't deal with anything anymore, her sister, her friends, her monsters, her mother. She's alone.

Except for me.

I reach over to the table with a single lamp on it. Key in hand, I slip the cuffs off her and lay them on the pillow beside me. Does she still want to play?

The puzzled look she gives me is the cutest thing I've seen since that puppy Dru once tried to get me to eat. Buffy pout... God, I want those lips.

She giggles when I squeeze her ribs and lip the skin on her should gently. Suddenly she's in my arms, her nose pressed into m neck, one arm looped under mine, the other fingering my chest and shoulder.

I guess I'm not a complete dumbass, I react. I hold her head to me. I reach over her back and tug my gold sheet and coverlet over her naked body. She must be freezing cuddling up to a vampire.

Her hair smells amazing and I bask in her scent. She slowly heats up with most of the blanket snugly around her, only covering me with a corner.

I don't have to breathe, but I like to keep the habit. She seems to syncronise with me, her whole body fitting into the curves of mine, her breath rising and falling.

She's perfect, I wish she knew it. She hasn't done anthing truly wrong in her whole life, the selfishness she's been throwing around after Red brought her back is pretty justified. Abandoned and alone, suffocated and half-blind, demons everywhere... I think she needs only of herself for a while. Everything and everyone's so fucked up now, they all just need a mother. Maybe even Watcher-boy. But he's gone.

I'm there for her because I love her, and she needs **someone**, I guess that's all I can do or she'll think I'm doing too much and getting too human. I'll take the risk tonight.

"Buffy..." It comes out in a breath. "You never-you never did anything wrong."

She sighs and her voice cracks. "I did. I-I did and I'm sorry. I'm so afraid of myself.

"I'm sorry!"


	3. Chapter 3

3

**Why can't I just be me** when I'm with him? It's frustrating. I'm sad that the dull, lowdown ache I get when I work won't go away. The worse my day is, the more grease I spill, the more customers, all of it coils inside me, waiting to burst out in anger, in tears... In using the only one who truly cares for me.

I've apologised to him, I'm letting myself be close to him, I guess that's as much as I can do for him. But I want him so much.

It hurts. It's like Angel all over again - painful. Except I was stronger with Angel. I stayed away even though I wanted him with all of my being. I didn't do that with Spike.

I think he knows why I can't let myself be with him. I shouldn't want him, those kisses almost killed me, I wanted him to push me onto the ground right outside the Bronze, fuck me along with that musical climax... but I didn't. I had shoved him off when the song ended and ran and couldn't stop.

Every time I touched him after that kiss, it was like electricity flew between us. I love that feeling.

He's holding me now, tightly, protectively, as a single tear drips from my nose. A quiet voice in my head tells me I should've trusted him from the beginning, trusted myself and not pushed him away.

"Why do you care so much? I have never given you a reason to."

"Because... Because I love you."

"I guess - I guess it should mean a lot that you could love me even before we - ... like Angel, and he still - "


	4. Chapter 4

4

Suddenly, everything clicks. She's not a mystery anymore, and I adore her even more for it.

"I think I understand you now."

She pushes me away (oh no, not again), and the blanket slips off of me. She's cute when she stutters unintelligibly, but she's not leaving, so that's enough for me. I reach out and turn her chin upward. Her eyes meet mine. They glisten with unshed tears which float above deep and beautiful pools of emerald. I melt into them, surround myself with her scent, relax infront of this emotionally torn and bleeding woman.

I snap back to the present as tears suddenly fall thick and fast down her face. Her entire body shakes under the blanket and she slowly burries her face into it, wrapping herself in all her pain, clutching my hand in both of hers, whispering kisses against it. I squeeze her back to reassure her. She seems to cry forever as I lie there watching her. She can't meet my eyes again. She just breaks and lets herself cry against my hand, sobbing on and on.

"Buffy, we can make this better, I'll help. Whatever you need. Trust me and we can make this better, luv. Give... Buffy, give faith a chance, let someone take care of you for once, you need to be weak to get stronger."

I don't even know what the fuck I'm saying. All I'm trying to do is desperately figure out what she is crying about. It could be any of a number of things. I think the moment she realises she's here to stay, she'll be a much happier person.

"I know I'm sounding like a huge fucking soppy cliche movie, but Buffy... I love you. I'm never going to leave you. Not if you push me away, not if it's for the best... I could never imagine leaving you til I'm dust. Trust me, that is all I'm asking, and I'll never want more."

She gently places my hand against her heart, running her fingers over mine and tracing the crook of my arm, pulling it down her body slowly. She shivers as I simply touch her, dragging rough skin against her milk white breasts, pinching, exploring her. Delicate, smooth and soft skin raises under my touch. Her eyes close and she arches against me slightly, edging closer.

Then she raises her eyes, not yet meeting mine.

"I'm scared, William."

She bites those soft lips of hers as they begin to tremble and tears pool.

"I'm scared that there's no point, that I'll never feel like I did before. I can't even remember if I ever was happy - with anything life brought me... It's painful and it won't ever change. Life. I can't beleive anymore."

"Let me remind you. I'll teach you again."

Her eyes widen and her perfect mouth eases open. In a breath I toss the blankets off her and she meets me halfway with a blinding kiss. I groan with pleasure as her body presses completely against me, hands holding my face close, freeing my hair into it's curls and traveling down my back. Sensory overload. She hooks one leg over mine. Her hot centre nudges my cock and her nipples pebble against me.

"Make love to me."

Her whisper is breathed against my ear.

"Ohhh, Buffy, luv, pet, love you!"

I thrust my pelvis forward and push inside her, edging her onto her back in the same movement. She relaxes around me, underneath me, and I catch her sigh in my mouth. We share teasing biting kisses as I twist into her and reach that spot inside her that always makes her scream.

She bites my lip, drawing blood and moaning quietly as I have pull out. My heart sings at the brightness in her eyes as I ease in again. She's sucking the blood from my lips now as she joins my rhythm. I could never resist a girl this good.

I clutch the globe of her ass and pull her hips to me to flip us over, never losing contact as she continues to lick at my lips. I catch her tongue with mine and she nips it again. I return every bite and lick she's placing on me, blunt teeth on soft flesh. Her hands kneed my chest and she pushes upward slightly, swiveling her hips and beginning to rise and fall slowly around my prick, flooding my stomach with sweet nectar. The scent is heady and I breathe it deeply in. Buffy.

I expect her to continue an encreasing pace, to rise up above me and ride my cock frantically, those delicious breasts moving above me, like she always does. Like she's done for a while. But no...not tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

5

"Spike..."

I trail my eyes from his lips to his eyes slowly. I hope he'll trust my intentions.

"Just... Just kiss me..."

And he does. He's pulling me to him, wrapping my in his arms and the blankets, lips pressing sweetly against mine. He's on top of me, inside of me. I'm surrounded by Spike, his scent of whiskey and leather and dirt and cigarettes is mixing with my sweat, becoming a part of me. He's keeping a slow languid pace, worshiping my neck, running those skilled hands from my cheeks to my hair, pulling, squeezing, whispering to me...

"Buffy. Buffy, I love you. Baby... mine. You're mine. I'll keep you safe, I love you, Goldilocks... Luv... I'll keep you safe, I'll always keep you safe..."

He's staring deep into my eyes as I suddenly drop into sweet, hot ecstasy. Spots pop in my eyes, golden fireworks as blood rushes fast and thick through my body, pounding in my ears. I don't even know how loud I'm crying out, shaking, muscles clenched and toes curled, so happy, so much pleasure I can't think.

I'm slumped against him, breathing heavily as he takes my face in his hands, caressing my cheeks with his thumbs as he moans, finishing too. He gently nudges my nose with his, a soft little Eskimo kiss and he whispers again, his breath is hot on my face.

"I love you."

Waking up with blue eyes staring at me is new. And I think I love it. I think I could get used to this.

One of his hands is lightly tracing my hip, the other is under my ear... I must have fallen asleep using him for a pillow.

He raises a scarred eyebrow slightly, curious, testing.

Despite myself I glance at him through my lashes, giggling, turning my head to press a light kiss on his palm. I'm so content. Everything feels like it could be better, better for good. I don't know what time it is or where I need to be, but I'm beginning to realize my happiness needs to come first. I need to heal, then I can cope with everything else that could possibly stand in my way. I'm the Slayer, I'm the girl who killed The Master, who saved the world multiple times, who brought down a God. I'm the girl who died twice, went to heaven and came back to tell the tale.

I'm unique, there's no one like me, and I can love whoever the hell I want.

I bite my lip slightly, I can still taste him, and continue to giggle like this isn't new to me. New to us. Like I've woken up in his bed a thousand times before.

I guess he didn't know what to expect. His eyes light up and he's smiling and pulling me to him, covering my face and hair with sloppy kisses, hugging me to him. I've never seen him shine like that, a demon who can't begin to express his happiness.

He backs up suddenly, just to look at me. To take me in.

"Luv..." his voice is husky, sweet and dark and accented as always. Sexy as hell too.

"You look better already."


End file.
